Forcing It Into The Light
by AmandaS
Summary: What happened after Mulder found Scully on the floor (Post-Milagro)


Forcing It Into The Light  
  
  
  
  
Author: Amanda_S (adnamaschackow@hotmail.com)  
Spoilers: Milagro  
Category: Mulder/Scully romance, Post-Ep  
Summary: What happened after Mulder found Scully on the floor  
Archive: You may post this wherever. Just send me an email with   
the URL of the archive. As long as I'm given credit, and no one   
makes any money, I don't really care where this ends up.  
Disclaimer: These characters, this show, this episode all belong   
to Chris Carter, FOX, Ten Thirteen, and all those people. The   
only thing I take credit for is the particular language used here   
and for the plot that imagined happening after the episode,   
Milagro.  
Author's Note: If you liked it, give me feedback at   
adnamaschackow@hotmail.com, and read my other writing, posted at   
FanFiction.net, gossamer, and   
http://www.geocities.com/catcherofstarslikefireflies/  
If you hated it, please write me, flame me, scream at me at   
curly_keya@yahoo.com.   
  
  
  
(1/3)  
  
  
It had nearly been dragged out of my chest. Nearly ripped through  
every defense. Nearly destroyed bone and flesh, revealing my   
ultimate vulnerability. As the man had hovered above me, I could   
almost see my heart in his hand, still beating from the residual   
electrical impulses.  
  
And I had allowed him in willingly.  
  
Because unlike anyone else, he simply imagined himself a giant, and   
stepped over my barriers with a single stride.  
  
Because he was unaffected by the science. By the logic. By the   
protocol, rules, regulations, and formalities. He only observed. The   
emotion. The aesthetic. The objective. Then played back his beliefs   
and interpretations in romantic, poetic, personally invading lines,   
implying, leading, teasing at what lay behind my barriers,   
threatening to drag what lay in the shadows into the light, to set   
it free.  
  
And instead of running, I was drawn.  
  
I had, for so long, denied my heart.  
  
And while I feared him, I longed for what he gave me. He reminded me   
of that part of me. That it could respond.   
  
And so, when I gasped back to life, realizing that the man was gone,   
that the fingers I felt in my chest, on my heart, were only   
imaginary, a lingering memory, the barriers lay in shreds.  
  
When I realized it was Mulder holding me, my newly freed heart would   
not allow me to begin reconstructing the broken and battered   
barriers that had so long protected me.  
  
I cried and sobbed, shaking and moaning. Uncontrolled. As the   
attacker's hand had entered my chest, it had left much damage to   
those living protections. My weakness, my longing, my loneliness all   
pressed and throbbed against him, revealing the depth of my   
vulnerability.  
  
I felt his breath against my ear as he spoke, asking me if I was all   
right.  
  
My heart was in control now, and it could only draw him closer.  
  
Eventually, he scooped me into his arms, removed me from the floor,   
and took me into his bedroom, lying me on the bed. He stood to leave,   
nearly ripping my heart from my chest once more. Desperately I   
grabbed at him.  
  
"No, stay. Please."  
  
The barriers were returning of their own volition, but my logic was   
still in shock. And so, what for so long had been denied, hidden,   
now revealed itself, taking control of my body and my actions.  
  
I drew him back to me, holding him close against my chest.  
  
"I need you, Mulder. Don't go. Don't ever leave me. I love you."  
  
********************************************  
  
(2/3)  
  
I was powerless. At his will.  
  
He had ripped through the physical barriers, overstepped the   
emotional, ignored the personal. I tried to fight back, but there   
was nothing I could do. Without my protection. Without my heart.   
Without my barriers. Without anything to keep him from my   
vulnerability, he was in control. I was controlled only by him.   
By fear.  
  
Screaming in agony. In pain. I could feel his hand closing around   
my heart, threatening to rip it from its place within my chest. I   
let out a final scream, feeling the first beginnings of tearing.  
  
"Scully."  
  
Mulder's voice pierced through the fear and the pain, and I   
opened my eyes to find myself, enveloped in darkness, and held in   
warm, strong, caring arms.  
  
My breath and pulse raced as I slowly realized I had been   
dreaming. That I was lying in Mulder's bed, wrapped tightly in   
his arms as he whispered in my ears.  
  
I trembled from the sensation and stared at him through the   
darkness.  
  
"Were you having a nightmare?"  
  
I could only nod as I stared into his wide, dark eyes, that   
barely glimmered in the dim light. One of his hands was caressing   
my hair and the other was wrapped around my waist and held me   
close against his body and his fingers caressed my back.   
  
He was waiting for me to speak. To acknowledge what had happened.  
  
But I was still lacking my barriers. My strength. The pain was   
still too raw, untreated and unmedicated, and I couldn't face the   
horrifying memories that were spinning around in my head.  
  
He was waiting for me to repeat my earlier confession, to re-  
expose my vulnerability to him. He wanted me to entrust him with   
my heart. With my emotions. With all that I had hidden for so   
long.  
  
Unable to speak, I only cuddled closer, burying my face in his   
chest so he couldn't see the tears in my eyes. Later, I realized   
that he surely felt there dampness through the thin fabric of his   
shirt, and knew the truth despite my meager effort.  
  
With a quiet little moan, I nuzzled him slightly, hugged him   
close and drifted back to sleep, with his warmth as my   
protections.  
  
********************************************  
  
(3/3)  
  
Instead of gripping fear, I was awakened by the soft caress of   
warmth, skittering across the rim of my ear, down my throat, then   
up again.   
  
And I allowed it willingly.  
  
I allowed the lips and fingers to roam my skin, moaning, holding   
my eyes shut to hide reality. I could not remember who this was.   
Why I had trusted them. But the warmth and smell were familiar.   
Caring.  
  
And I awoke with my walls down.  
  
Wrapped comfortable around a body, pressed heart to heart, the   
throbbing a calming salve. I felt the part of me that I kept   
hidden growing, strengthening itself as it pursued its interests,   
subtly responding to caring touch.  
  
A second hand rose to become parallel to the other on my cheeks,   
as the body rolled me on my back, and settled above me.  
  
Two warm thumbs traced down my cheeks very lightly, almost   
tickling the soft skin. That warm, sweet breath was close to my   
face, but I dared not open my eyes for fear that it would end.   
That with the ending of sensation, my heart would throw back into   
the shadows, behind the barricades.  
  
"Scully, are you awake?"  
  
His voice opened my eyes, forcing me to see him.  
  
Mulder was staring at me, and I could see fear and apprehension   
in his worried eyes.  
  
As much as he had wanted my barriers to fall, the sight of my   
vulnerability shocked him. Scared him. Filled him with great fear   
and concern, edged with guilt and regret.  
  
"Mulder, I'm alright. I'm fine."  
  
His eyes dropped momentarily, staring at the sticky remnants of   
the blood that were still clinging to my chest and my blouse.  
  
I bring one hand up to raise his face to look into mine.  
  
"Really, I'm fine. I was fine the minute I saw you."  
  
There was a spark of recollection in his eyes.  
  
"I-I was so afraid for you. If you would have... If you had...   
Scully. I love you, too."  
  
  
********************************************  
END  
  
Feedback: adnamaschackow@hotmail.com  



End file.
